


Out of the Closet

by Crowgirl



Series: Timeline [5]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Moving In Together, Not Beta Read, Photographs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 05:31:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18772186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowgirl/pseuds/Crowgirl
Summary: He’d forgotten he had any of these photographs left.





	Out of the Closet

Q knew he probably shouldn’t let James clean out that last closet he hasn’t touched since he moved in but he hates moving and this is the last day they have to pack before the actual van comes and he’s got dust over every inch of his body including the insides of his lungs, the kitten’s escaped down the front path twice, and it’s all very well and good that James is recovering from a bad fall on his last assignment and not in a position to help very much but Q’s just about out of sympathy at this point. So he says yes and James disappears into the back room with a stack of boxes and the kitten tagging at his heels -- so that should solve one problem at least -- and Q turns back to weeding tea mugs until he hears the shout of laughter.

The sound’s so unexpected it makes him flinch and he nearly drops the mug he’s holding. Then he takes a good long look at it -- it’s ancient, bright yellow, and sports some logo he no longer even recognizes -- so he sighs and drops it into the bin, then dusts his hands and goes to see what James has found now. 

* * *

‘What? What is so damned funny?’ Q demands, striding into the nearly empty room.

James is kneeling in front of the open closet, a half-filled packing box on either side of him. The kitten is occupying herself scrambling in and out of them; Q’s voice startles her and she flops the last few inches into the box she had been scaling and then turns to blink at him. Q comes the rest of the way into the room and scoops her up, letting her claw her way onto his shoulder and nose about in the ragged ends of his hair. ‘Well? What is it?’

‘Darling.’ James twists around, holding out a handful of photographs as if they were playing cards. 

‘What?’ Q takes the photographs and flicks through them. ‘Oh. Yes. Well.’

He’d forgotten he had any of these photographs left. One of his friends had been documenting the last student play of their university years as part of a project and had given Q some duplicates. So here Q is -- in all his scrawny undergraduate glory -- primping in front of a make-up mirror, a ratty sweater slung around his shoulders, fussing with his hair, laughing with one of the actresses -- what was her name again? Carrie something. And then there are a few of him actually onstage, black jeans and an ill-fitting woman’s corset, his skin made up even paler than it actually is so he practically glows under the footlights.

‘It was my friend’s production,’ Q says, a trifle defensively as James pushes himself to his feet. 

‘What was the play?’ 

‘Er -- I don’t -- actually remember. Something terribly experimental.’ Q frowns down at a photo of himself half-made up, fussing with the ties on the corset. The point had been that it didn’t fit well -- the breast cups hanging loose against his chest and the thing unable to be tied tightly enough to actually stay in place. 

‘And you were shagging the photographer?’ James asks, leaning in against Q’s shoulder.

‘What? No! Good lord, no.’

‘Really?’ James takes the photographs out of Q’s hands and shuffles them until he finds the one of Q onstage, looking up at something over the photographer’s head and out of sight. His face and torso are in sharp focus, but the rest of the image has been fuzzed at the edges, so it looks rather as though Q's surroundings are dissolving around him. The stark, yellowish light is behind and above him and the shot manages to make it look almost like a halo effect around his shoulders. The jeans are a little loose on his hips but at this angle and in this light, the corset actually looks -- decent. Or, rather, attractively _in_ decent.

‘Really.’ 

‘And I don’t suppose you lifted any souvenirs?’

‘Like this, for example?’ Q traces the line of his own photographed waist.

James makes a kind of purring noise and slides his free arm around Q’s back. The kitten takes offense and leaps from Q’s shoulder, landing with a rush and a scramble on the windowsill. ‘For example.’

Q smiles and leans into James’s warmth. ‘Why, Mr Bond. I’d no idea that sort of thing appealed to you.’

James hums and his lips graze Q’s earlobe. ‘I still need to buy you a housewarming present.’

‘Are those really traditional when it’s _your_ house _I’m_ moving into?’

‘They are if I say they are.’

**Author's Note:**

> [The photographic inspiration](https://glasscreature.tumblr.com/post/184026752657/something-something-construction-of-the-self), provided, as so many good things are, by the lovely [Catchclaw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw).


End file.
